Upon entering from the elevator, you see Brian Kane's Beckett-inspired interactive piece, "Waiting for Google," consisting of an iPad installed in a pedestal and a projected image of the "spinning rainbow" cursor Mac users will recognize as a symbol forcing them to wait (some call it the "spinning beach ball of death"). By manipulating the wheel on the iPad, you can slow it down, speed it up or run it backwards, but you can never get rid of it, eternalizing and magnifying the frustrating symbol.

John Michael Boling's "Four Weddings and a Funeral" sounds like a one-liner at first -- four wedding videos and one funeral video gleaned from YouTube; however, the wedding videos, all presented on one line, are manic -- fast cuts, loud music. The funeral video, by contrast, is one long shot of a solemn procession. This video is alone and below the wedding videos. It draws your eye back over and over as a resting place from the cacophony above, forcing you to contemplate the "end."

"Versions," one of two pieces here by Oliver Laric, is a projected video meditation on the repetition of images and icons that, at a little over 9 minutes, juxtaposes a variety of images from film, television, art history and the Internet. In one intriguing section, clips from the Disney versions of "Winnie the Pooh" and "The Jungle Book" appear alongside each other, demonstrating how similar, frame-for-frame, the films were. Accompanying the video is an audio track in which a woman reads from unidentified texts, which, I later learned, were written by Susan Sontag, Friedrich Nietzsche and Jorge Luis Borges, among others. The result, which is hard to hear, is as dry and didactic as it sounds, and it doesn't really add anything to the video.

In an homage to Douglas Gordon's "24 Hour Psycho," Mark Callahan slows down the infamous viral video of Miss South Carolina's question-and-answer flub in "24 Hour Miss South Carolina." Callahan's other contribution here is a new work, "House and Universe," in which he erases the people from popular video blogs, leaving only the uninspiring living spaces to contemplate.

Penelope Umbrico mines Flickr for images and presents a wall full of sun photos, along with images of people interacting with the same piece. It's a simple enough idea and makes for a beautiful, vibrant piece.

Similarly, with "No Sunshine," Constant Dullaart finds images of sunsets and removes the suns, leaving a strange light, as if the photos were taken during an eclipse. In "Poser," he digitally (and awkwardly) inserts himself into other people's family photos.

If one role of the museum is to catalog and inventory art, then these artists are fulfilling that role -- removing these images from their original context, repackaging and, in that sense, preserving them.